


Bite

by beautifulmidnight



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Escape, F/M, Fear of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulmidnight/pseuds/beautifulmidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post-war rock star has an appetite for the most succulent of meats -- will he spare Vaeh or taste her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Craving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silusaugustus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silusaugustus/gifts).



> Aldaric 'Rick' Metzger is an original Fallout character created by a very close friend of mine. I've fallen into some kind of odd attraction with his 'Rick' character and I decided to write a fic with him and Vaeh.
> 
> Please do not use Rick in your stories unless you have permission from my friend. Thanks.

The night was sultry, and the air was so thick Vaeh felt that her body was being coated in warm soup. Her slinky black dress stuck to her skin in sweaty patches and her feet slid in the matching heels. In the time it took to walk from the Lucky 38 to the Ultra-Luxe, her hair had frizzed and all the make-up she had so carefully applied was melting down her cheeks.

The fountain in front of the Luxe glittered in the evening light, and rather it being the beautiful sight she usually took it for, it was just another reminder that A) she was late and B) she looked horrible. The spray, always cooling, felt more like warm oil than water when she passed. She ran up the lighted steps and opened the gilded metal door of the hotel.

Cool air rushed in and she sighed in relief.

“Surrender your weapons please,” the White Glove greeter stated almost immediately after she closed the door.

“I am not armed,” she lied. “I’m here for the…concert?”

“Oh yes!” the greeter’s smile could be heard in his voice. “Aldaric Metzger! We are very lucky to have him perform for us. I will gladly have someone escort you to the concert hall…after you clean up, of course.”

“Of course,” Vaeh grimaced.

She excused herself to the ladies room and hurriedly washed all the make-up off her face.

 _I look better without it anyway,_ she thought to herself.

She combed her fingers through her hair in an effort to tame the frizz, but it was a futile effort. Giving up, she returned to the greeter who was waiting patiently outside the restroom.

“You’re very fortunate. The concert has not yet started. We have a special seat for you up in the balcony. You can see everything on stage,” he informed her proudly.

“That’s…nice,” she said, following closely behind the White Glove. “I’ve never heard of this person…I don’t listen to a lot of music.”

“Then I must say you’re in for a treat! He has many fans, especially women. He’s quite charming.”

Vaeh felt the greeter had his own crush on the singer, but kept the thought to herself. The greeter led her up a staircase then opened a door that led onto a private balcony. A single table with a white table cloth was home to a glass vase with a white rose. A mask sat next to it, and next to the mask, a champagne flute. The beverage looked cold and Vaeh’s mouth watered.

“Please thank Marjorie for inviting me and giving me this…this…” she couldn’t finish her sentence. “Gift,” she finished lamely.

It was a beautiful set-up. Maybe the evening wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Please, put on your mask,” he gestured to it. “Enjoy the show.”

Vaeh took her seat and picked up the mask. It was a half mask, which would cover the top half of her face. It was an off white color, outlined in gold around the edges. Gold roses tinged with pink decorated the right side, and thin silken ribbons covered in glitter hung down both sides. She shrugged and tied it on.

She wondered when the show was going to start. She sipped at her chilled champagne and watched the bubbles climb up the sides of the glass.

The concert hall was full and the buzz of excitement was almost palpable. Women of all ages sat in the front row, fawning all over their playbills and photos of the famous Aldaric Metzger. Vaeh wondered where her playbill lay; it wasn’t fair that she couldn’t giggle and fuss over the handsome singer too. At least, she assumed he was handsome. She had never seen his face.

She noticed everyone in attendance wore masks, and each one was more identical than the last. Hers was completely different. Was she special, somehow? She was an honorary member of the White Glove Society. Maybe that had something to do with it.

“I hope this show starts soon,” she muttered. She was feeling really drowsy all of the sudden, and if it weren’t for the mask she would’ve rubbed her eyes.

She stifled a yawn and drank more champagne. She wasn’t sure, but the lights were getting lower and lower. Her sight blurred and halos around each light fixture sparkled in her peripheral vision.

“So sleepy,” she murmured.

“I see him! I see him!” one girl shrieked. “Oh he’s so handsome!”

Vaeh didn’t care.

She finished her champagne and her grip on the glass relaxed. It fell to the floor and shattered.

“Pretty,” she giggled at the tiny glittering pieces on the purple carpet.

The lights went out completely and the stage became illuminated.

“Music! Yay!” she giggled again.

She put her head down on the table and waited for the entertainer to take the stage. She cradled her head in her elbow and closed her eyes.

She’d wake up in a minute….

 

 

~

 

Opening her eyes was painful. Her head throbbed, especially around her temples and jaw. Her body and joints ached like she had been tossed around like a child’s plaything. She licked her dry lips and gagged at the taste of air. It was like rusty iron, but the smell was off. It was a sickly sweet coppery kind of odor.

It took her a moment to realize she was no longer sitting in the balcony in the Ultra-Luxe concert hall. She tried to get up but couldn’t, her wrists and ankles tied together with silken sashes.

“What the fuck?”

She was nude and it frightened her. The room was entirely too warm and she could feel sweat beading off her skin. She forced her eyes to open and focus. Being blind and scared wouldn’t help her one bit.

The room was dimly lit. She discovered why her body ached – she lay on a hard metal table. She was right in assuming her arms and ankles were tied, but she was wrong about being completely nude. She still wore the mask, the flimsy thing suffocating the top half of her face. She had no idea where she was, but she felt it safe to assume she was in the Ultra-Luxe.

How did she even get here? She was only attending a concert.

“They must’ve drugged me. The champagne…why?”

She wriggled her hands against the sash, feeling the fabric give a little. A moment or two later, the fabric had torn, her hands free at last. She groaned when she sat up, dizziness and nausea overtaking her. She untied her ankles and promptly vomited on the floor. Between how she felt and the overwhelming stench of the room, she was amazed she hadn’t thrown up before now.

Once she could focus again, she noticed streaks of red ran down her arms and inner thighs. Someone had cut her! That was blood! Her blood!

She jumped down off the table and backed away from it, only to bump into something warm and slimy. She whirled around and choked on a scream. A torso dangled from the ceiling, its limbs wrapped in chains. The skin was pinned back on both sides of the torso and what was left of the person’s innards dangled over a bucket filled with old, sticky blood.

She vomited again, horrified and sickened to a degree she couldn’t even measure. She couldn’t say why, but she glanced at the corpse again. Most of the internal organs were gone, but they weren’t cut out. There were teeth marks along the flesh, tears in the entrails that couldn’t have been made by any knife.

She started to shake. Would she be next? They drugged her so they could eat her?

A low growl echoed in the room. Vaeh froze in terror. She had the urge to hide, to cry…but they were passing thoughts. The instinct to run filled every fiber of her being. Uncontrollable fear swallowed her whole.

Tears streamed down her cheeks and she covered her mouth to keep from making noise. She heard the growl again and she ran to the back of the room, her bare feet slapping against the paved floor. She hid behind some crates and peeked around the corner.

Two men entered the room, one clearly a White Glove, the other…he was different. He too, wore a mask, and it was off-white outlined in gold. It was greatly similar to hers, minus the roses. He was the tallest man she had ever seen. His shoulders were wide and they strained against the fabric of his white jacket. From what she could see of his face, he was highly attractive, and he seemed to hold himself with an air of total confidence and assurance. But there was something very… _wrong_ about him.

“We have a special surprise for you, sir. She’s waiting for you on the table, still sleeping. She won’t feel a thing,” a male voice laughed. “We even started to cut her, but, ah, we were told you would want the honors.”

Bile rose up in the back of her throat. They were talking about her!

 _Oh God_ , she prayed. _Get me out of here._

“Shut up,” the man said to the White Glove.

“Apologies, Mr. Metzger. I will leave you now.”

Vaeh bit her trembling lip. He was the singer she was supposed to see. And he was here, for her, to cut her open like that torso, to spill her blood…to eat her.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” he seemed to sing. “I know you’re not on your table. I can smell you.”

Fear gripped her heart. She got to her feet to run further into the room. She found the door and discovered it was locked. She wanted to kick it open but it was useless. The solid metal door couldn’t be opened with a stick of dynamite, how could she ever hope to get through?

“My resistance is hanging on by a thread. Come out, come out…” he sang. “Please, _Nevaeh_ …”

Her blood chilled at the sound of her name. He knew who she was? Maybe the White Glove told him. She sat on the floor and curled up in a ball behind a barrel. It smelled even worse back here than it did by the table.

“ _Nevaeh_ …” he called.


	2. Satiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, my apologies. The first time I posted this, not all of it posted. Maybe now the ending will fit better. Sorry guys!

Vaeh broke out in a cold sweat. Her head swam with a thousand thoughts, each one boiling down to one simple command: escape.

Metzger’s footsteps were heavy and urgent. She squeezed her eyes closed, hoping against hope he would pass her by, but it wasn’t meant to be. The barrel she hid behind rumbled and tipped over, crashing on the paved floor and spilling gallons of thick, cold blood all over her and anything nearby. Hot breath flowed over her face, and heavy breathing, much like a dog’s, made her ears ache.

He growled and she forced her eyes open. If his eyes had color, she wasn’t able to tell. She could see only the whites, and his small iris had depths of blackness that showed no trace of humanity, only a feral lust for something any human in their right mind would never crave.

Whatever control that he exercised to speak to her mere seconds ago was gone. What existed was a monster, a monster with sharp teeth that was smiling.

No, he wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t have time to think on it. He grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her to the floor with one hand. She couldn’t move underneath him. His other hand cupped her breasts and traveled down the length of her body.

 _Is he going to rape me?_ She thought.

He squeezed her flesh painfully hard. She cried out. He didn’t notice. His eyes were glazed over, a distant look in them, as if he were not present in the moment but hundreds of miles away.

Metzger removed his jacket and shirt, revealing muscles that at any other time would be pleasant to look at it, but right now they were bundles of raw power and the cause of her pain. She could picture him laying waste to a deathclaw nest or a city, quite possibly both. His strength was inhuman and Vaeh couldn’t even struggle to move.

 _You can’t give up now…do something!_ The voice in her head screamed.

He bent over to study her and she quickly spat in his face. Some of it landed in his eye and his hand released her wrists to wipe it away.

She seized the opportunity to roll away and run. In her haste, she tripped and fell. A hand locked onto her ankle and dragged her back. Her body scraped on the floor and it created more cuts, which in turn made her bleed even more. The scent drove him wild and his voice was now a guttural, animalistic series of grunts and growls.

His warm, wet tongue licked her from her ankle to the apex of her thighs. His teeth grated against her skin and his groans turned to moans of pleasure.

“Please stop,” she whispered. “Please, please stop…” Her tears were hot and her eyes burned badly.

Her chest and head felt heavy. Maybe giving up would be easier. Fighting him was impossible. His strength surpassed even the greatest warrior in the Legion. She felt his teeth sink in deeper. Shocked into moving, she spied a broken chain next to her head. She snatched it and using what little power she had, turned and hit him with it.

The blow landed on his head. He looked up, not so much in pain but in surprise. His grip on her relaxed just enough so she could wriggle out from under him and run. The table she woke up on came in sight and she found a bonesaw and a cleaver on a smaller table right next to it. She grabbed the cleaver.

She couldn’t kill Metzger, he seemed impervious to pain, but everyone bleeds. If she could slow him down, it might give her time to escape.

Her feet gave way beneath her. He grabbed her roughly and dropped her on the table. He bent her wrist back, forcing her to drop the cleaver. She couldn’t help it; she screamed as loud as she could. He pinned her body down with his own and Vaeh could feel his hard-on against her thigh. She screamed over and over until his mouth crushed hers in a violent kiss.

He bit her lower lip and drew blood, which he promptly licked up. He buried his face in her neck and breathed in, his tongue lavishing her pulsing jugular.

Her hands frantically searched for anything on the table she could use as a weapon. Her fingers gripped the blade of the bonesaw, and without hesitation, she firmly raked the saw across his back. He roared into her ear and sat up, his large hands closing over his new wound.

She dropped to the floor and exchanged the saw for the cleaver and ran for the door that Metzger and the White Glove had entered in earlier.

She reached it, but just like the other door, it was locked. She beat on it with her fists, yelling and crying for help. Behind her, Metzger howled.

A calmness enveloped Vaeh. She wasn’t frightened anymore. Was this a sensation everyone experienced when they knew their death was at hand? Metzger, who was halfway across the room a moment before, was now in her face. His hands clamped onto her upper arms and he lifted her off the ground. Her feet dangled and she made no move to kick him.

Metzger was done playing with his food. He slammed her repeatedly against the metal door. She no longer felt pain. Was she paralyzed? Or had her mind cushioned her from the trauma? After his new rush of rage subsided, he let her fall to the floor. Having no will to live, she flopped onto the floor like a rag doll. Silver stars outlined her eyesight and everything sparkled, even the blood.

Her vision then darkened and she didn’t know if she was dreaming. Metzger had turned his back and the metal door opened. A warm, soft hand pulled her through the small crack before slamming closed. The soft _snick_ sound of a key locking felt like music to her ears.

“Oh my goodness me! You’re still alive!”

She vaguely recognized the voice. “Chauncey?” she breathed.

“I need to get the doctor! Oh, but I can’t leave you…”

“Chauncey, what is going on?”

It was Marjorie. Vaeh knew that much.

“Oh my word! What has happened? What is wrong? Chauncey, why is she naked and covered in blood? She’s been injured! Get the doctor at once!”

Vaeh felt her head being cradled in something soft and sweet smelling. Her mask was removed and the air smelled cleaner and she could breathe easier. Marjorie’s smooth hands brushed Vaeh’s hair out of her face.

“Oh Nevaeh, your mask…it’s ruined,” she said sadly.

Vaeh wished she could laugh. Here she was, barely able to move, and Marjorie chose to focus on her damn mask.

“The doctor’s here,” the older woman whispered. “You’re going to be all right.”

With that said, Vaeh closed her eyes. She was safe.

 

 

~

 

Nearly a month had passed and Vaeh had healed from most of her injuries. Her back still hurt like hell and every inch of her ached like a bitch, but the doctor said she was lucky her spinal cord didn’t snap. The fact she could walk at all was a miracle.

It was the first Thursday of the month and Vaeh had received another invitation to hear Aldaric Metzger sing. The invitation came in a box this time, and within the box was her mask, the one she wore the night he tried to eat her. Marjorie had it cleaned and repaired, apparently.

She wanted to throw the box away and tell the whole Society to burn in hell, but something compelled her not to. Despite her fears, she was curious about Metzger. Clearly he was two separate individuals. A charismatic, charming man in public and a monster with a hunger fiercer than a deathclaw’s in private.

She had to see the ‘normal’ Metzger for herself.

Which was why, at the end of his spectacular performance, she slipped on her mask and joined the throng of people surrounding him, eagerly waiting to get one moment with him. A kiss, a photo, an autograph…everyone wanted a piece of Aldaric Metzger.

Vaeh pushed her way to the front of the crowd, desperate to get one glimpse of this monster masquerading as a human. He passed an autograph to a young woman not much older than her before turning his head and smiling. He locked eyes with Vaeh.

Motionless, Vaeh watched him walk towards her. He favored her with a charming smile. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“No,” she answered quickly.

He studied her a moment longer. “I could swear I know you from somewhere.”

“You don’t.”

“Then my apologies. Here.”

He passed her an autographed playbill and she accepted it. He left her alone to talk with his fans, and she left the hotel, not another word uttered to anyone.

It was raining outside, a rare thing in Vegas. She sighed. What a great way to end the evening. She glanced at the playbill and shook her head. She dropped it in the Luxe’s fountain and walked away, not even bothering to read the personal message that was hastily scribbled there.

~

Safely back in the Lucky 38, she stood in the bathroom staring at her reflection in the cracked mirror. Her face was still bruised and her lower lip and neck were scarred, but she knew the scars would fade and the bruises would eventually heal. She was human, after all.

Was Aldaric Metzger human? Handsome, charming, talented and artistic, she couldn’t believe how anyone could see past the façade. He was a monster, a lion among lambs. The scent of blood drove him wild, but tonight there was no evidence of it.

Could the entertainer and the feral creature who tried to eat her be one and the same? And would it be possible that he couldn’t control the gruesome, sick creature he became? If that were the case, she pitied him.

Her pity had a limit. He would’ve killed and eaten her if she hadn’t escaped. Would he have felt remorse for doing so? Guilt? Pain? She doubted it.

Despite his actions against her, she was compelled to see him again. She would attend his concert once more. She’d watch him, study him…then perhaps if she had the gall, she’d confront him.

She laughed ruefully. How did the old saying go? Curiosity killed the cat – and it might kill her too.

~

Aldaric Metzger retired to his room at the Ultra-Luxe, taking a seat on the long luxurious couch after he closed the door behind him. He removed his mask and tossed it onto the floor.

He thought of the girl…the one in the mask of roses. He knew exactly who she was. He was sweating profusely then and he was sweating profusely now. Just thinking of his teeth sinking into her flesh made his craving so much worse. Seeing her, the delicate fragile thing that she was, only made him want her more.

If she returned, he wouldn’t hold himself back. Even being in public wouldn’t save her. If she valued her life at all, she’d stay away. But he knew deep down she wouldn’t. She was curious about him and she wouldn’t fuck off until she was satisfied with whatever information she could get from him. He hoped she was smart, but wouldn’t bet on it.

He sighed and went to his refrigerator. The smell of sweet meat greeted his nose and while he dined, he thought of the pretty blue-black haired girl, his teeth at her jugular.

 ~

A young woman passed by the Ultra-Luxe fountain. She stopped walking and returned to it.

An autographed playbill of Aldaric Metzger floated on top. The woman fished it out and read the smeared ink.

“’Nevaeh, stay away little lamb. Aldaric Metzger’…what the hell?”

She shrugged. She’d keep it. Maybe it would be worth something some day.


End file.
